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“Do you ever think about it?”
“You’re gonna have to be more specific, Benny. Think about what?”
Benjamin glances at Oliver, his mouth twitching into the tiniest of soft smiles before he answers, “How we created everything and you’re still my favourite one.”
Oliver turns his head away from the ocean spray to instead look at Benjamin. The sun isn’t low; it’s mid-afternoon and the yellow sunshine is catching in Oliver’s eyelashes and making him squint. Benjamin studies his face (as if he needs to study it—he knows Oliver’s face better than he knows his own these days; the line of his nose and the arch of his eyebrows and curve of his lips). Oliver’s smile spreads slowly, carefully, like he’s debating whether or not he’s allowed to smile. He’s never been great at accepting compliments but, over the years, Benjamin has started to help him acclimate to them. It helps that Benjamin always wants to compliment him, always wants to emphasise how important Oliver is. It’s as easy as dreaming.
“You’re my favourite, too,” Oliver says, and Benjamin knows him well enough to know that it’s supposed to sound teasing and a little mocking, but it’s dripping with too much affection to land like that. “I think about that all the time.”
“Good,” Benjamin replies, breathing in deep and slow. The air is warm with the first hints of spring and settles comfortingly in his lungs. They’d been playing in the water earlier and his hair sticks to his forehead. Oliver had attempted to dry his hair and ended up with sand buried in his hair line. When he turns his head, a few grains come loose and skitter down his forehead and cheek.
“‘Good,’ he says!” This time, Oliver does actually sound teasing. “You like that I think about you so much, huh?”
Benjamin can’t work up any of his usual exasperation over Oliver’s antics. He just says, “I just mean that I think about you all the time too.”
Oliver knocks their shoulders together, grinning. “Good things, I hope.”
“Always good things,” he promises. It’s an easy promise to make; even when he’s annoyed or upset or exasperated, his thoughts about Oliver always circle back to how much he loves him. “Do you…”
Oliver has turned his head back towards the sun, leaning back slightly with his eyes closed to enjoy the feeling of the warmth on his face. Benjamin’s breath catches, a little, at the sight of it. Yes, it’s been years of moments like this. Yes, Benjamin is still blown away by how resolutely Oliver chose him, chose to share these endless moments with him. His eyelashes are fanned over his cheeks and Benjamin doesn’t bother trying to stop himself from leaning over and kissing the spot right below them.
When he pulls back, Oliver squints one eye open. “Do I what? Spit it out, Benjamin.”
Benjamin can feel himself heating up, and it’s not just from the sun. He’s always flustered easily, but this time he’s really not sure why he’s so embarrassed. Oliver’s brows pinch together and he shifts a little bit closer to Benjamin, so that their thighs are pressed together.
Benjamin reaches to lace his fingers with Oliver’s and smiles another tiny, soft smile. “You know,” he starts, just like he rehearsed, “if all of time already exists, then you’ve already answered this question. So I don’t really know why I’m so nervous to ask it.”
Oliver blinks. “You can ask me anything.”
“I know,” Benjamin says a slow nod. “Do you ever think about what comes next? There’s an entire future that we’ve dreamt up for ourselves, two realities worth of new experiences. Do you ever think about what our future holds?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“I do, too,” he smiles a little wider now. “I was thinking the other day about—you know, it was ages ago—when we woke up in that retirement home? I didn’t think about it at the time, because every time we woke up we were side-by-side, but we were together there. And…when we dream, we just visit different points on a pre-set timeline, which implies that we were together there. For real. Not Lucids stuff, not a weird alternative timeline. Just us, in a retirement home, together. I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately. How we’ll be together that long. How I want to be with you that long.”
Oliver leans forward and cuts him off with a kiss. Benjamin probably should’ve expected this; Oliver has always been generous with affection. He’s still caught a little bit off guard. They stay like that for a few minutes, slowly savouring the moment. Then Oliver eases away, a little pink, and says, “Sorry. You were saying something.”
Benjamin kisses him once again, which makes Oliver laugh (if he could bottle the sound, he would; he’d carry it around with him for an instant pick-me-up). Benjamin laughs too, fond and light and full of unending love. “I want to be with you,” he says, the last of his laughter still clinging to the corners of his eyes. “Forever. In this reality, in the other one, in every dream and all my waking hours. We made everything and we know that we will stick together but—Oliver, will you marry me anyway?”
“That’s what you are nervous to ask me?” Oliver says, his voice low and awe-filled, tilting his head so that the sun isn’t in his eyes and he can look at Benjamin with them blown wide. “Did you think I was going to say no?”
“You might!” Benjamin protests. “There’s lots of reasons we could be in the same retirement home—“
Oliver cuts him off with another kiss, slow and affectionate. Benjamin’s breath catches and his heart stutters in his chest. Oliver squeezes his hand where their fingers are still interlaced, and uses his other hand to cradle Benjamin’s jaw, thumb brushing gently against his cheek. The sun beats down on them and Oliver is knocking more sand from his hair. Benjamin can feel grains dropping against his own skin but he doesn’t care. He reaches blindly behind him, unwilling to pull away, for the ring box he’s got stashed just underneath the beach towel.
When Oliver pulls away, finally, he keeps their foreheads pressed together. Benjamin presses the ring box into Oliver’s chest and whispers, “Technically, you still haven’t answered.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Oliver teases, shifting away just enough that they can fumble with the box and get it open together. “Of course I’ll marry you. On one condition.”
Benjamin nods, laughing a little deliriously. “Anything.”
“When we grow up, I get to ask you in your reality.”
Benjamin laughs again, nods excessively, and kisses Oliver again. They get so thoroughly distracted that it takes another hour before Oliver gets the ring on his finger. It doesn’t matter; Benjamin can’t imagine anything more perfect.